This morning I woke with the alarm, and having shut it off, lay quietly a moment – and nearly fell asleep again, then couldn’t recall if the alarm had gone off… or perhaps I’d only dreamt that it had? I checked the clock somewhat reluctantly, not really wanting to find out what I already knew; it’s morning, and yes, the alarm went off. I rose without giving the matter further thought, and was already in the shower before I realized my arthritis pain is much less today – hot weather? It’s in the forecast, so, probably.

The a/c was off through the night, and the apartment felt a bit stuffy – another sign of a hot day to come – so I opened the patio door to let the pre-dawn chill fill the place. I looked out over the lawn, lit in places by the lights along the walkway between buildings and the pool; there are rarely any other windows with light showing at this hour. I spotted … a large long-haired cat? No – a raccoon. Quite the largest raccoon I’ve ever seen in my life. She sat very still, watching me watching her, then – rather strangely I thought – she started slowly moving toward me. How peculiar…or…oh. Not peculiar at all. Half a dozen or so guinea-pig sized youngsters were playing on my patio, quite near my feet, without a care in the world – they’d found some stray gladiolus bulbs in my garden gear – apparently those are quite the fun objects for play, for small raccoons at dawn. I went for my camera – I definitely wanted a picture of the racoon family visiting this morning… They were still there! I remembered the flash, too – I was as excited as a little girl, and it was hard not to bounce, giggle, exclaim, or otherwise inadvertently terrorize my wild neighbors. Camera ready….and…

…and I forgot to open the screen door. The flash warned off the racoons, who quickly departed.

My coffee still tastes good. I still got to watch what appeared to be a small herd of wee raccoons enjoying the morning on my patio, so near to me I could potentially scoop one up to cuddle it (which, I’m just saying, seems like a very poor choice of action in practice, and I did not attempt it; that mother raccoon was simply huge and entirely fearless). I still have a lot to learn about taking pictures. 🙂

Surprises and happenstance work like that, don’t they? Opportunity, chance, coincidence – the unlikely win, the happy accident, “good luck”? There are wonders to be seen, and great things to experience – but when I am not aware, observing, and present in the moment I miss out on a lot of loveliness, fun, and experience – and overlook so much of my good fortune. I’m learning to let spontaneity have its moment; I find it a bit scary to face life without some structure and planning…but raccoons don’t seem to mind, and the missed shot with my camera reminds me of something important; it’s the experience itself that really matters, that has substance and value in my recollection – the picture is a memory in a share-able format, nothing more really. The map is not the world. The documentation is not the circumstance. So many of life’s richest and most precious moments can’t easily be captured in a photograph.

There is a lot of wildlife nearby Number 27. I have a lot to learn about taking pictures of animals living their lives; they don’t take direction well, and do insist on simply going about their own affairs. Certainly, I am doing the same, and don’t ‘set up the shot’ when I am living my life. There’s probably a lesson in there some where.

I did get a rare picture of my very shy clown pleco, yesterday morning – catching a glimpse of him so unexpectedly delighted me.

Similarly, on the commute, I had a chance to enjoy the company of a squirrel, enjoying his morning stroll along the commute to work.

From the commonplace to the fantastic, there is more to life than I have the ability to experience all at one moment, even when I’m “really watching”. Awareness – mindful presence in the moment – is the thing that brings so much of what I do experience into my field of view. Self-involved rumination, and obsessive mental gear-grinding definitely result in a much narrower world-view with fewer ‘points of interest’ to delight me. Frankly, if I’m chewing my nails and worrying grimly about this or that, I’m just not looking around me at the world. There are verbs involved – and now, raccoons!! 😀 (I still grin every time I recall seeing those tiny raccoon faces looking up at me, just at my feet – I almost missed them – and they were so tiny and adorably cute!)

One concern I had when I moved into Number 27 was that I might find myself living a life of such routine, and rigid habit, in order to be assured of taking good care of myself, that I might not easily distinguish one day from another, and that life would be wasted on the mundane without forward momentum… just… time… passing… until, inevitably, death. Grim. It hasn’t been that way at all – neither has life unraveled until chaos took over. It’s seeming to be quite well-lived, with sufficient structure to feel secure, safe, and comfortable, and sufficient looseness of habit, and prominence of spontaneous use of will to be an everyday adventure… every day. I’m quite enjoying it.

Most days I drink my coffee black; it is my habit.

Sometimes I choose differently – whim, or choice? Are those different?

Now and then I do unspeakably delicious excessive things with coffee and ice cream… also a choice… and a very tasty reason to have good habits, generally.  (Kids, don’t try this at home…or…if you do, skip the rest of your meals; this one is ‘calorie rich’!) 🙂

I expected to be painting more, sooner – but there is no lack of creative inspiration, or the drive to follow through on it – I am simply more focused on my writing for the time being, and often combine those experiences to write little note cards to friends, family, and loves with sketches and fun doodles, bits of poetry and such. I remember quite fondly how much I enjoyed writing letters when I was much younger – before the world was digital. I remember, too, how meaningful such things were when received from far away (particularly during war-time). Here too, in the smaller routines and experiences of daily life, being comfortably free with my choices makes so much difference; I harm no one to choose writing over painting, or sketching over poetry, or yoga instead of dancing, or reading instead of meditating… there are so many ways to take care of me, and meet my needs over time. It matters most simply that I do – and there are verbs involved.

Sometimes it’s less about the individual details than it is about the feel of things, generally…

…but the details do matter, and there are wonders within reach if I am willing to see them.

It’s a lovely morning. I’m quite content. That’s enough. 🙂